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Never Say Never...

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And firmly believing that this place is NOT as dead as it seems, the dumply little crone scurries down the street from the shop where she has been engaged in candle making and rat and cat tending, and various other things needed to bring her own shop alive again towards her long-neglected cottage. Turning onto the familiar lane, and reading the hand-carved name at the corner, it seems to her that even the name of her lane, "Unicorn Dance," holds a majikal promise for tomorrow. She doesn't slow at all, but follows each lovely twist and turn, peering into familiar woods at ferns and trees still a-blossom, and wee small violets peeking out of emerald green grass on the verge of the path. Finally, she spies her own place, her refuge from a cold mundanity, Shadowchase. The garden is a bit overgrown and in need of tending, and there is a LONG time's of dust to clear away, but the sheds are sound and the firewood dry, and the cottage itself is still shipshape save for a bit of cleaning. Not even the little crone's beloved books have suffered from the damp. She sets to work with a will and a broom, first lighting fires in kitchen, bedchamber and sittingroom against the damp, and by the time the sun begins to lower, her home sparkles and there is a rich stew simmering on the stovetop, along with water for tea. The cats and rats have found favorite spots, and made themselves quite at home with fresh water, cheese, seed and kibbles close at hand. Music softly fills the air, and the little crone sighs in contentment. A bit of company would be quite welcome, but she is well-able to live on her own in this place.
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